With open books
I pray, "Thy kingdom come,"
and seek through cherished pages, line by line,
increasing understanding of the Father's pure design.
My morning light.
Progressively
my earth-dim vision clears
as widening vistas through the words unfold,
till I at last with open face, as in a glass, behold
the sovereign God:
The primal Truth,
one pure effulgent Love
prepatterning all near and far of space.
And mirrored forth in faithful image, glorious grace for grace,
I see His son.
Through these two books
the dulling veil is shed.
Through them the mighty Word of ages flows
and in the pristine pattern of creation's Science shows
me who I am.
Then, having seen,
may I not be that one
who leaves the glass but straightway to forget.
The reading done, let me now go my way, His witness yet,
remembering.
